The Morning After
by Dark Lady1
Summary: Rokusho's life went up in flames. His master, his friend, both gone in a fire without warning. How does a Medabot react to find out his Medafighter is gone?


Disclaimer: I do not own Medabots, nor do I own any of the characters from the original manga. I own myself and the rights to this fanfic. Horumarin owns Medabots. He owns Rokusho. Bugger.

Author's Note: According to the Medabots episode where Rokusho finally finds Baton, it rained quite awhile after the fire at Professor Hushi's. I wanted at first to go for 'sunny day' ironic thing, but then I remembered that line Rokusho said about the rain and bah XP.-- Oh yeah. Bow in shame at my rain sound effects XD

Plip.

Plip plop.

Plip plip.

plilililiillilililp!

Rokusho groaned, quite audibly. The sounds were loud. He began to wince, soon enough covering his head with his arms. The noise was giving him a meda-ache. He then realized that things were pelting at his head. Was Baton spilling his seeds over him to wake him up?

His optics flashed on, though his right one fuzzed in and out with snow. He blinked a few times, his optical functions whirring to life. The snow faded. The first thing he noted was that... he wasn't sure his sight was right.

Everything was dark. He lifted his head and realized that, no, his sight was fine. And whatever that was dark was merely sticking to his face. He wiped at it, feeling something thick and wet.

Uck. Mud.

Wait-- mud? What was mud doing in his room?

Rokusho shook off what he could from his face and found that he most certainly was NOT in his room. He wasn't even in the house.

The KWG was sitting in a rather thick puddle of the cursed mud, rain (not seeds) falling on and all around him. But the 'all around him' was what had caught his attention the most. And holding it quite well. Rokusho's arms froze in mid air, the mud still dripping from his hands.

Rubble. Scorched, wet, dirty wood, brick and metal surrounded the Medabot. What was left of his home barely gave anyone the idea that a small house might've once stood proudly in its place. The walls had fallen pathetically in the downpour. There was nothing left. His home was destroyed.

Rokusho sat there for the longest time, his body frozen and his optics wide. Fingers trembling in the rainfall. Somewhere above him, the clouds rumbled in aggression.

It all came back to him. The night before. Him going out to check the sky, the sudden, out of the blue fire, him running through the house. He'd been trying to find them. Baton and...

"PROFESSOR HUSHI!" Rokusho cried out, rising to his feet and turning his head this way and that. His voice echoed gently in the large area. No answer came but the clouds above. Rokusho inwardly gulped down. "PROFESSOR HUSHI! BATON!" He screamed again.

He ran over his broken home frantically, tripping over the battered wooden beams that had once supported the roof. The roof itself was in pieces.

"PROFESSOR HUSHI! BATON!" He sobbed, panting gently. They had to be here. They had to be here! Please, please, let them be here! Let them be okay! Rokusho fell over one of the many desks that Professor Hushi had owned. Face first into the mud, but it barely phased him. Until he got back up and tried running again, only to fall again. It was a large puddle, cluttered with glass and a picture frame.

Rokusho lied out on his stomach, clenching his fists, mud and glass squeezed in his palms.

"PROFESSOR HUSHI!" He screamed, his shoulders shaking.

He rolled on his side, holding himself with his optics closed. He felt himself sink gently into the puddle. They were gone. They were gone. His only family. The only thing Rokusho KNEW as family were gone.

Yet the outside world went on. The rain continued to fall on Rokusho and his home, he saw birds flitter by for cover in the trees.

His tree.

He looked up. His tree hadn't gone undamaged in the fire it seemed. The leaves completely burned off, the branches black with scorch marks. Rokusho looked at it felt a bit of empathy towards it. It was dead, burned enough that it would probably fall from it's stump with the next strong wind. It had nothing else to live for. It'd be gone soon enough.

Rokusho lied in the puddle of mud for the longest time, the rain only making it worse and the pain in his dead doubling.

How could they just be... gone? So sudden, with out a good bye or without warning. Just... gone. How was that possible? He was never going to see either of them...? Really? No more fishing trips. No more cooking mishaps. No more helping around the house. No more of Baton's false weather predictions.

Rokusho blinked a couple times, turning to lie on his back and stare up at the sky.

Yesterday, Baton had said it would rain.

plip plip

plipip plop.

And now it was raining. The KWG type gave an involuntary chuckle. Baton had been right. It was raining and it didn't give any sign of stopping.

No.

They couldn't be gone. Rokusho glared up at the clouded sky. The idea of Baton being right suddenly gave him new hope. They had to be alive. In fact, Rokusho was sure of it. They're weren't gone. Neither one of them.

It didn't seem right.

Rokusho sat up, hearing some of the mud fall from his back. He struggled for a second, finally getting back to his feet and finding his balance. He didn't care how ridiculous it seemed or how stupid his reason seemed. Professor Hushi wasn't dead. Not him.

He clenched his fists once more, stepping out of the puddle and over his broken home. Passing by the picture frame of the three of them by the tree. Reminding whoever looked at it of happier days. He glanced at the photo, and that sealed it. Rokusho wanted those happier days again. He wanted his master and friend by his side again.

He wanted to be home again. He wanted his family.


End file.
